Wish You Were Here. Victoria Connelly
him.
‘The gardens aren’t closing, are they?’ Alice asked, fearing she was being rounded up and pushed out. ‘I’ve lost all track of time.’
‘This place can do that to you,’ the man said. ‘But, no, they’re not closing. Not for a few hours.’
‘Good,’ she said, liking his gentle accent. ‘I don’t think I’m quite ready to leave yet.’ She looked up into his smiling face. ‘Do you work here?’
‘No,’ he said, ‘I just like coming and pushing a wheelbarrow around the grounds from time to time.’
She blushed. ‘Sorry – it was a silly question.’
He grinned at her. ‘No, I’m sorry. And, yes, I do work here. I’ve worked here for a very long time.’
Alice smiled. ‘It must be a wonderful place to work.’
‘It is, yes,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t want to work anywhere else.’
‘You’re very lucky.’
‘I am,’ he said simply and then he put his wheelbarrow down and sat on the bench beside her.
Alice shuffled up a little, not used to having handsome men sitting so close to her.
‘And where do you work? You’re here on holiday, right?’ the young man asked her.
Alice nodded. ‘I’m here for a week – with my sister.’
‘And your job? You have a job back in England – right?’
‘Yes, I’m from England and I do have a job but do you mind if we don’t talk about it? I wouldn’t like to spoil this beautiful place by talking about something so dreary.’
The man nodded. ‘I’m sorry to hear that it is dreary. That is a great shame.’
Alice nodded again. ‘I don’t really know what happened. I mean, you never plan these things, do you? You don’t grow up thinking, I want a really dreary job when I grow up. I want to be bored out of my skull and fill my days doing meaningless things that don’t seem to add anything worthwhile to the world.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘But I said I wasn’t going to talk about it and I wouldn’t want to bore you.’
‘You’re not boring me,’ he said, his dark eyes warm and attentive and, all of a sudden, Alice was talking – talking like she’d never talked in her life because nobody had ever really listened to her before except her father. She told him about her job and her boss and how bored she was there and how nobody ever seemed to notice her or care about what she thought.
She told him about her father and how worried she was about him even though he always said he was all right and that she shouldn’t worry. She told him about her sister and how cross she made her and how she’d thought this holiday would change things between them.
‘Gosh,’ she said once she’d finished, ‘I didn’t mean to say all that. I’m not quite sure where it all came from.’
‘That’s okay,’ he said. ‘You needed to talk it all out of you.’
She smiled at his funny phrasing but still felt horribly embarrassed at having unburdened herself to a complete stranger and so stood up and started looking for an escape route and then she remembered something. ‘I – er – I haven’t actually paid to get in,’ she said. ‘There was nobody at the gate.’
The young man waved his hand dismissively. ‘There’s no need.’
‘But this place must cost a fortune to keep going.’
‘Yes, but the owner has plenty of money. He doesn’t need yours.’ He stood up and followed her along a footpath and there was a moment of silence between them as their feet crunched along the gravel.
‘Did you come to see Aphrodite?’ the young man said at last.
‘Pardon?’ Alice said, surprised by his question.
‘The statue of Aphrodite – over there by the fountain. Most tourists come here to see her. Perhaps you missed her.’
‘I think I must have,’ Alice said, annoyed with herself. She thought she’d seen everything.
‘They say she grants wishes,’ the man said with a little smile.
‘Do they?’ Alice said.
‘If your wish is for love or beauty, it will be granted.’
‘I don’t believe in wishes,’ Alice said.
‘Just because you don’t believe in something, doesn’t make it less real.’
She blinked in surprise. ‘Perhaps I’ll make a wish another day,’ she said, ‘if I come back.’
‘I hope you do,’ he said. ‘Goodbye.’
He turned to go and she watched until he was out of sight and then glanced in the direction of the avenue of statues. She’d walked that way earlier but now realised that she hadn’t been paying attention. She’d been thinking about Stella and her head had been full of worries which meant she hadn’t really seen the beauty of the place she was in.
She took out the leaflet from her handbag. She’d remembered reading something about the statues there.
The Goddess Garden is a place like no other, the leaflet proclaimed. Travel back to Ancient Greece and meet Hera, Athena, Artemis and Aphrodite whilst enjoying the lush beauty of the garden with its fountains and sea views.
It was, indeed, a beautiful part of the garden with its enormous urns spilling over with bright flowers and its fountains cooling the air with watery mist. Alice walked up to the first statue which was standing beside the protection of a cypress tree. Its figure was long and boyish and her hair was scraped away from her rather serious-looking face. She was reaching behind her shoulder to where she was carrying her arrows and her other hand was resting upon the head of a faithful hound.
‘Artemis,’ Alice said, ‘goddess of the hunt.’
She walked on and found the next goddess standing by a small pool. She was carrying a sheaf of wheat, a gentle expression gracing her face.
‘Demeter,’ Alice said, ‘goddess of the harvest.’ She smiled because she knew that her knowledge would have intensely annoyed Stella had she been there.
Alice walked on by the other goddesses and then she saw her. Standing in full sunlight at the end of the walk was Aphrodite. Alice recognised her at once because she was quite unlike all the other statues in that she was smiling. Artemis had worn the expression of a head teacher and Demeter had looked dreamy but Aphrodite was positively beaming with happiness, her long curls tumbling down her back and the finest of silken garments only just covering her curves as her arms reached up to lift her hair away from her face. Alice couldn’t stop looking at her.
‘So you’re the one everybody comes to see, are you?’ She took a step towards her. ‘Do you really grant wishes?’ she asked, looking into the blank eyes. She reached out, her hand resting on Aphrodite’s gown which was warm from the sunshine. ‘Heaven only knows I could use a granted wish or two right now.’
Alice thought for a moment. What exactly would she wish for? The health and happiness of her dear father, of course. A better, more normal relationship with her sister. But what for herself? If she was being really selfish, what would she wish for herself? Aphrodite was the goddess of love and beauty and the young gardener had said that wishes to do with those would be granted.
What would I wish for? Alice wondered, looking up into the beautiful face of Aphrodite. Should I wish to be as beautiful as you?
The warmth of the stone statue seemed to seep into Alice’s arm and she felt the strange tingling sensation that one feels after five minutes too long in the sunshine.
She shook herself out of her reverie.
This